


This is Just a Part I Portray (Season 1)

by JustAnotherCricket



Series: After the End of the World [1]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Female Runner Five, Gen, Mild Language, OC, Season 1, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherCricket/pseuds/JustAnotherCricket
Summary: Addison Walker is not her name. She's not military. She doesn't know what Project Greenshoot is.But she'll tell any lie if it gets her into Abel Township.This is Part 1 of a fic covering the whole story arc of Zombies, Run! My plan is to go season by season, probably twelve chapters or so per season, telling the story of my Runner Five. I'll hopefully be updating weekly (fingers crossed!). Some of the chapters will be rewritings of key plot missions from my Five's perspective, while others will cover material that's unique to my Five's story.
Relationships: Runner Five & Sam Yao
Series: After the End of the World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814437
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. First it Comes on Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> S1M1 from my Five's perspective

“Abel Township’s just on the horizon. See it now?”

No. No, she can’t. There’s nothing on the horizon that even remotely resembles a township.

Unless…

A metallic flash catches her eye, and she leans forward, pushing against the worn straps that hold her in her seat. Wait. On top of the hill, surrounded by the sprawling forest, she sees what looks like a tiny settlement. No, even “settlement” sounds too official for this place. It’s nothing more than a few small tent-like buildings grouped together, surrounding a radio tower. If not for the radio tower glinting in the sun, she might never have seen the township at all. 

“Not much more than a few fences to keep the zoms out,” the pilot adds, just loudly enough to be heard over the whirring helicopter blades. “I don’t know how they live like that. Guess they won’t be living like that much longer.”

She nods tightly. What happens to Abel Township isn’t any of her business. God knows why Mullins feels the need to send supplies and shelters to a clearly doomed crowd of hideaways. She doesn’t know, and she doesn’t care. She’s here for exactly one reason, and it has nothing to do with the military.

The pilot reaches over and switches on the radio system.

“Abel Township,” she says. “Jolly Alpha Five Niner from Mullins Military Base. We’re five miles out, approaching from the east, bringing med supplies, shelters, and loan of one of our people. Abel Township--Jolly Alpha Five Niner, requesting permission to land.”

A male voice crackles over the speakers on their headsets.

“Got that… ah, I...I mean, roger that. You’re clear to… yeah, you can--”

He sounds so defeated. A tiny smile creeps onto her face. 

“You can come on in.”

“Roger, Abel. Heading down now.” The pilot switches off the radio and leans over conspiratorially. “Level with me. You and me both know we haven’t got half of the usual supplies. We’ve lied to the township.”

No kidding. She has a semi-decent excuse mapped out, but she wouldn’t mind a better one.

“Yeah, I know, you don’t know anything. Someone at Abel is going to come up to you and say, ‘I’m here to brief you on Project Greenshoot,’ and then you’ll find out what your mission really is.”

_ Funny story, actually,  _ she thinks.  _ I’m sure the real Addison Walker knows exactly what Project Greenshoot is. _

Yesterday, they called her into the Level Three clearance bay on the fourth floor. Told her Project Greenshoot was finally underway, and she was on the shortlist. Said that if she volunteered, she’d be sent to Abel Township to get things ready and wait for the signal.

If she had been Addison Walker, she would have known what they were talking about. She would have known whether it was the sort of thing you wanted to volunteer for.

Of course, she wasn’t Addison Walker. But she was definitely interested in getting a free ride to Abel Township. So when they talked in hushed tones about things she was clearly supposed to have been briefed on already, she nodded confidently as if she knew exactly what was going on.

For the first half of the helicopter ride, the pilot had grilled her on her mission. What was Project Greenshoot? What was going on? Why the hell couldn’t Mullins properly brief anyone on anything?

She had given the easiest answer. She didn’t know. She hadn’t been briefed yet. Someone at Abel was supposed to tell her. She wasn’t worried about getting caught in the lie, because she had no intention of ever coming back to Mullins.

Distant gunfire jolts her back into reality.

“What the…? Someone’s shooting!” 

She scans the ground below quickly, searching for signs of enemy fire. Nothing. Where are the bullets coming from?

“That’s not from the township,” the pilot says frantically.

Down below, a shimmer of movement catches her eye. Something metal in the trees, then a flash of fire. A cold shock races through her. The pilot sees it too.

“ _ Who the hell has a rocket launcher at this base? _ ”

A low boom and a  _ crack  _ and the helicopter shudders.

“We’ve been hit! I’ve lost the tail rotor!” 

The pilot struggles to maintain control as the helicopter careens wildly, charting a clear and steady course down. Instinctively, she reaches back and grabs a parachute pack.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday,” she hears next to her, but it sounds so far away. “Jolly Alpha Five Niner going down, three miles east of Abel Township. Two souls on board.”

She pulls the pack over her shoulders, checks the string, then glances over at the pilot. Why is she still fighting the helicopter for control? In her last few seconds, she reaches behind her for a second pack as their headsets crackle to life.

“This is Abel Township calling,” says the same male voice. “Supply copter, can you hear us? You’re coming down fast...can any of you hear us?”

No time to reply. She shoves the pack at the pilot.

“Put it on!” she orders. But it’s like the pilot doesn’t hear her. It’s like she thinks she can get control back.

“Open your shoots!” the voice calls. “Jump, jump!”

She undoes her seatbelt, yanks down the emergency lock, and kicks open the door. She doesn’t even have to jump. The whipping wind throws her off balance, jerks her out of her seat, and before she knows what’s happening, she’s tumbling through the air. She fumbles with the cord, pulls it, and feels her whole body slow to a  _ stop  _ as the parachute inflates above her.

Floating slowly, she watches the helicopter crash beneath her. The pilot didn’t make it out.  _ I guess maybe captains really do go down with their ships. _

For a moment, she falls through whistling space with no other noise except the wind. Then the voice comes back through the headset. 

“Hey, hey! I, uh…”

She recognizes almost every note she hears in his tightly wound vocal cords. He’s concerned, nervous, confused, with a hint of fear. But to her surprise, there’s another quality in his voice that she can’t quite place. 

“If there’s anyone alive, if you’ve got your parachute open, this is Sam Yao, from Abel Township.”

What is it? There’s a word for it. She’s falling from the sky into a zombie-infested forest, and all she can think about is this man’s voice.

“Aww, I’m just the… I’m just the radio operator, man, I’m not supposed to handle this stuff!” 

Just before she hits the ground, the word comes to her.

_ Gentle. _

She lets her legs relax, careful not to lock her knees. Still, she hits harder than she expected, and breathes in sharply from the impact. Tucking into an awkward roll, she finds herself splayed out on the ground, loosely tangled in parachute cords.

She stares up at the clouds, white splotches against a blue backdrop.

“You’ve come down in a horde of zombies.” She’s heard people talk like this before. This Sam Yao is the kind of person who would normally be panicking, but he’s been trained just enough to cover that fear in a smooth layer of calm. Nice work, kid. It’s paying off.

“They’ve heard the noise, they’re coming! There are...thirty?”

She picks herself up off the ground, unwinding the cords from around her. Then she hears it—an achingly familiar chorus of moans.

Shit.

“No, forty—aw, crap! Your only safe path is towards the tower.”

She glances up. Just above the treeline, a red light on the top of the radio tower flickers to life.

“If there’s anyone alive there, just run. Run!”

This isn’t how she imagined arriving at Abel, but it’ll do. She breaks into a sprint, weaving through the trees, aiming at the tower. Behind her, the moans fall behind. She’s faster than them. She’s going to make it.

She slows her pace just a little, and crashes through a clump of bushes into a clearing. As she passes through, she glances up and notices an old rusty camera, haphazardly bound to one of the trees. She can’t help but snort. Apocalypse technology.

“Wow, there’s...there’s someone alive down there, running! Hey, can you hear me?”

She doesn’t even bother trying to respond.

“No answer. But still, just look at ‘em go! Heading for the tower, just like I said.”

_ Useful information, Yao. Tell me something that will keep me alive. _

“Okay...running person,” he says as if he hears her. “If you can hear me, well, you’re doing great. The main group’s behind you, and you’re going to come out of this forest soon, but there’s a...yeah, well, I—I can’t think of a phrase that’s not ‘small army of zombies.’ Sorry, don’t do so well under massive pressure.”

Despite herself, she smiles, appreciating his bluntness.

“There’s a...well, one of those, directly to the east of the trees. So, if you head more towards the old saw mill—”

Saw mill? 

“You should be able to see its massive red signs from where you are…”

Again, like he’s predicting her thoughts. She glances to the right, and there’s a small hill gently sloping out of the forest. Just above the treeline, large enough to be spotted from this distance, are the red signs. Hearing only the occasional quiet groan from behind, she slows slightly and veers right.

“Man, look at that, they’re changing direction! They can...you can hear me!”

He laughs, and again she’s struck by the gentleness in his voice. She’s not used to it. Strangely enough, it almost frightens her. Almost.

“Okay, okay, we can keep you safe. It’s cool, it’s cool, we can bring you in.”

_ We can keep you safe.  _ He wants her safe. This Sam Yao, whoever he is, wants her to arrive at Abel Township unharmed. A little flame of warmth bursts into life in her chest, just above her burning lungs.

_ He doesn’t know,  _ she tells herself.  _ He doesn’t want you safe. He doesn’t want you in Abel. He wouldn’t if he knew who you were. _

She ignores both the warmth and her own voice, pressing ahead toward the saw mill. Some kind of whispered conference has started in her headset.

“No, we can’t ask them that! They might be injured!”

“Well, all the more reason to ask them that!” This was a woman’s voice, firm but soft. All the rough edges are missing. “This is Dr. Myers, only medic here at Abel Township. Lord knows I’m sorry to ask you this, but your route will take you almost past the old hospital. We know there are medical kits still there from the first wave of infection—if you could pick up even one or two, that would help us.”

“It’s too dangerous!” Sam breaks in. “You know what happened to Runner Five!”

_ No, she’s right.  _ This actually makes her feel better. The way Sam talks about keeping her safe, it’s like saving her life is a gift, and he doesn’t expect anything in return. An exchange will be easier to live with. Lives for a life. Med kits for one impostor.

In her ear, they’re still arguing.

“The zoms have all followed the noise of the crash!”

“But what about whoever fired that rocket launcher?”

“If someone wants to kill that runner, taking an unusual route will make it even harder, not easier! I don’t want to be hard-headed,” clearly directed at the microphone now, “but everyone in this township earns their keep.”

Not hard-headed. She understands completely.

“You should be able to see the Robinson hospital now—one of the buildings, Gryphon Tower, it’s the tallest in the abandoned city, and if you can’t find anything...we might not be able to let you in when you get here.”

Reasonable. She speeds up past the saw mill, sprinting down the hill into what used to be the city. She runs, passing broken windows, blinking traffic lights, and torn-up pavement from where the military tried to use their missiles. At the end of the street, she spots the hospital, eerie in its imposing darkness.

“Okay, okay...man, that’s great, you’re making good time. No broken legs, I guess.” 

Sam is apparently a talker. She reaches the hospital doors—luckily unlocked—and runs into the waiting room.

“Hey, uh, listen...I’m gonna call you Runner Five.”

A pit of fear settles into her stomach as she dashes up the stairs.  _ Don’t give me a name. Please don’t give me a name. _

“Um, just ‘cause...well, I don’t know your name, and we just lost a runner, in that same hospital you’re running through now. She was so fast, really funny, and clever. Me and her, we sort of…”

That’s even worse. Giving her a nickname is one thing, but giving her a nickname that used to belong to someone you loved…

_ Don’t do this to yourself, Sam. _

“She was amazing. But hey! You could be our new Runner Five!”

_ No, I couldn’t. I won’t. _

He chatters on about runners, and generators, and something about a slow shamble, but she stops listening as she reaches the top floor and starts rummaging through old supply cabinets. Med kits—good. The price for her life.

“Yeah, okay, your pace is good, but um, maybe head through the ground floor of the hospital. There’s a little swarm gathering in the parking lot I don’t like the look of.”

Fair enough. She runs back down the stairs, then down the hall away from the main entrance. Someone is banging on the doors. Fortunately, zombies can’t turn door handles.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good. You could even pick up anything interesting you pass. We think there might be some...well, we sent the old Runner Five there looking for some file the Doc’s interested in, so uh, you know, if you find anything official-looking lying around, just bring it home.”

Okay. She starts checking every office she sees, opening desk drawers, searching through cabinets. It’s slowing her down, and the banging is starting to worry her, but she keeps searching. She’ll find that file. It has to be a fair exchange. Her life has to be worth saving.

_ That’s impossible,  _ she hears herself say. As usual, she ignores it.

Wait. Stuffed away, behind one of the cabinets, there’s a dusty box that says CDC on the side. She pulls at it, but it’s wedged tightly between the cabinet and the wall. Frustrated, she kicks the cabinet a few times. At the third hard shove, it crashes to the floor, and she grabs the box.

BANG. She goes cold with fear. That’s the door. They broke through the door.

Med kits cradled in one arm, the box tucked under the other, she races her way through the hall, rounds a corner, and bursts through the back door into the light.

“Hey, there you are! I’ve got you on camera now. Great to see you, even though you’re kinda blurry.”

_ They’re right behind me!  _ she wants to shout. Not that they can do anything about it.

“Uh, what’s that you’re carrying? Look at this, Doc—Runner Five picked up something in the hospital.”

“Is that the Centers for Disease Control file?”

“What’s that?”

Dr. Myers is speaking to her now. “Runner Five…”

She cringes at the name.

“I don’t say this lightly—that box could be worth your life to protect.”

_ It definitely is. _

“Don’t drop it.”

“What  _ is  _ it?” comes Sam’s frustrated voice again.

“Oh, it might be nothing. It might be everything.”

“So, a pretty narrow window of definition.”

Dr. Myers ignores him, distracted by something else. “What’s that shadow over there?”

She hears a moan, and glances to the west. Another swarm—bigger this time—maybe sixty zoms, crawling over one another, drooling and gurgling. She sprints faster.

“Aw, aww, no!” Sam’s thin veil of calm has fallen away. “This was what—when we sent  _ her  _ out, this was what happened! They’re following you, Runner Five—the swarm from the car park, they’re following you! Now,  _ run _ !”

She puts on a burst of speed. Tearing downhill, away from the city, she tunes out the groaning behind her. Nothing matters except one foot in front of the other at a sprinter’s pace. As much as possible, she keeps her eyes up toward the hill on the horizon. Abel’s up on that hill, right? She didn’t accidentally get turned around at some point? Because if she did…

“They’re so fast. Why are they so fast?”

Sam sounds so worried that she glances back. Big mistake. The zoms—stupid, dripping, shambling zoms—are running. Awkwardly, tripping over rocks, but running. It doesn’t seem possible to go any faster, but she speeds up anyway.

“They never run, why are they running?”

No more looking back. No more thinking. Just a brutal death sprint up the hill. The cold morning air feels like fire as she breathes rapidly in and out. She’s in shape—she’s always had to be—but she isn’t a runner.

“Runner Five?”

Again, as if he’s answering her thoughts.

“Runner Five, they’re gaining on you!”

Dr. Myers’ voice breaks in.

“Runner Five, you’re not far from the gates now.” She looks up again, and right on cue, the red light of the radio tower comes into view over the crest of the hill. Below the red glow, the tower’s metal glints in the morning sun. Without really knowing why, she breaks into a laugh, which quickly becomes a cough.  _ Shut up, you’ll keel over before you even make it inside. _

“If you can keep going,” the doctor continues, “we’ll send some people with guns out to meet you. Only one zombie is close to reaching you, just put on a burst of speed, now!”

Then, to her astonishment, a smile spreads across her face. She’s running for her life from superpowered racing zombies in a godforsaken forest toward the radio tower of a shabby little settlement, and she’s grinning like an idiot. For just a moment, suspended between the earth and the sky, the screaming monster of rage in her chest falls silent and she is whole. For an all-too-brief eternity, she believes that maybe she is Runner Five after all.

“Oh, God...it’s her. I can see her,” Sam whispers.

She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t want to know.

“It’s Alice, it’s the old Runner Five.”

Okay, maybe she does want to know. She whips her head around to see one zombie, sprinting far ahead of the pack. Her empty, staring face is surrounded by matted blond hair. Her legs, now wrinkled and bruised, are muscled like a runner’s. She’s still wearing a headset.

A tremor runs through her, but she wills it away.

“Don’t worry,” she tells the old Runner Five. “I won’t take your place.”

And just like that, there’s a different male voice in her ear.

“Runner Five, it’s Runner Seven here, head of runners. The doctor’s told me you found something useful in the hospital. We’re sending out a couple of people to bring you in. Just keep running, as fast as you can!”

She glances back at the undead Five.

“Don’t look back!” Runner Seven warns, and she realizes that he can see her. “She’s right behind you...just run!”

Up above her, Abel’s gates come into view. A group of people, silhouetted in the sunlight, are running through the gates and down the hill, toward her. The closest runner shouts, “This way, run!” He’s carrying a gun.

“They’re going to shoot her,” says Sam in her ear. “I...I can’t watch, I don’t want to…”

The runner with the gun skids to a stop as she sprints past him. As she passes, he plants his feet and takes aim at what used to be Runner Five.

“It’s what she would have wanted, Sam, you know it is,” Dr. Myers says softly. “She wouldn’t have wanted to live like this.”

A gunshot, followed by many more.

“Run!” the runner behind her calls. “We’ve got her covered!”

Surrounded by Abel runners, she wills her legs to carry her the last few meters toward the gates. 

“Raise the gates...raise the gates!” Sam calls to someone she can’t see.

There’s a strange whirring sound, accompanied by a blaring alarm. The gates, slow and rickety, raise just enough for her and the other runners to duck inside.

Inside the gates, she sways for a moment, then drops to her knees. The burning sensation returns, and her legs feel like they might never work again. Her vision goes blurry. There’s a ringing sound in her ears. 

She reaches up to take the headset off, but realizes that her arms are still full of the med kits and strange box from the hospital. Carefully, she drops them.

“Hey!”

It’s the voice of Sam Yao—not over the headset, but standing above her. She looks up and sees a young man, about her age, with kind brown eyes and a mop of messy black hair. He extends a hand. She takes it, and he gently helps her to her feet.

“Good to see you in the flesh,” he says brightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his orange zip-up hoodie. She looks him up and down. With the hoodie, old jeans, and beat-up converse, he looks more like a college student than a radio operator. “The totally unbroken, skin-not-bitten-by-zombies flesh, right?”

She nods, about to respond, when she realizes that there’s a whole crowd of people around her, talking to her, asking her questions. Looks like the entire population of Abel Township showed up to meet her.

“Step back, step back everyone, don’t crowd!” Sam says, playfully shoving people away. “Give Runner Five some space! Can’t take in so many new faces right now.”

As the crowd slowly disperses, talking amongst themselves, she hears one voice mutter, “That’s who they’ve assigned for Project Greenshoot.” She cranes her neck, trying to identify who said it, but the people are already mostly gone, returning to their posts.

“There we go,” Sam says. “Sorry about that. Some of us are a little overbearing, but we’ve got good people. You’ll meet them all soon. Hey,” he adds, “now that I can actually hear you—what’s your name?”

Strange how Sam Yao, with his gentle voice and his innocent eyes and his bright smile, has no idea how hard that question is to answer. 

“Addison Walker,” she lies. “From Mullins military base.”

Sam breaks into an even wider grin.

“Good to meet you, Addy!” he says, shaking her hand again. “We’re glad to have you.”

_ You wouldn’t be glad if you knew. _

“Come on with me. Time for you to meet the doc. She’ll look you over and get you cleaned up.”

Sam keeps talking as they walk, but she isn’t listening anymore. Her mind is on the real reason she’s here.

_ Just a few days. Just a few days, and I’m gone.  _


	2. Creeping Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Janine bicker, Five is thoroughly intimidated by Sara Smith, and everyone plays a heated game of One Night Ultimate Werewolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the events of the 5K trainer, as well as S1M2.

The first few hours feel like a million years. 

First she spends an hour or so in the hospital, which isn’t much more than a big tent with some cots and a makeshift lab behind a curtain in the back. She’s examined by someone named Dr. Myers (the same Dr. Myers who asked for the med kits), who gently checks her all over for bite marks, does a quick physical test, and frowns a little at the scratches from her run.

“I’d give you a little ointment for those if I could,” she says slowly, “because there’s a chance one of them gets infected. But our runners are out in the forest all the time, and…”

It has to be rationed. She nods. “I understand.”

Before Dr. Myers can apologize, Sam pokes his head in through the hospital entrance. 

“Is she ready, Doc?”

Dr. Myers smiles. “It’ll be just one more minute, Sam, but you can come in.”

He steps inside as the doctor continues.

“Either today or tomorrow, you’re going to get a briefing from Janine on your placement.”

_ Placement? _

“I don’t know this for sure, but I strongly suspect she’ll place you as a runner. Normally we perform a physical test on runners to see how much training they need before we’re willing to risk sending them out on officially sanctioned missions, but, um...your arrival here was sort of a physical test of its own.”

“I’m sorry,” she breaks in, “maybe there’s been a mistake. Thank you for saving me, but I’m not staying long. I’m leaving as soon as Mullins sends a second transport for me.”

Dr. Myers’ smile fades.

“Oh. Hmm.” She glances over at Sam. “Perhaps you should…”

“Yeah, I’ll take it from here.” He gestures to the door. “Come along, Five—um, Addy. I’ve got a lot to show you.”

Talking nonstop, Sam takes her on a wide circle of the township as he points out the track, the greenhouse, the armory, the training area, the gardens, the farmhouse. She has to admit, Abel’s layout is smart. The township’s officials (or what passes for officials in a post-apocalyptic township) all live in the farmhouse, which lies almost exactly dead center of the map. Surrounding the farmhouse are the other dorms. Runners’ barracks are just north of the farmhouse, nearest the gates; radio operators live to the west and east, and all other housing is behind the farmhouse, to the south. 

“That way,” Sam explains, “if zombies or raiders happen to break through the walls in the middle of the night or something, it’ll take longer to reach the barracks than anywhere else.”

Every now and then as they walk, he greets someone enthusiastically (“Hi, Jody! Hey, Eugene, how are you? Hello, Simon!”), but doesn’t stop to introduce anyone. In response to confused or inquisitive looks, he just says, “Newcomer—you’ll meet her later.” 

Passing the farmhouse, they head north toward the gates. Just inside the gates, there’s a small two-story building that looks like it might have been a garage once? Maybe a shed? Behind the building, the radio tower looms upward. The beacon isn’t lit anymore.

“Comms shack!” Sam says brightly. “This is where I spend most of my time. Come on in.”

They both duck inside the too-short door and pass through what looks like a crowded storage room before climbing a rickety old staircase.

At the first  _ creak  _ of the floorboards, a woman’s voice calls impatiently, “Mr. Yao, is that you?”

“Can’t surprise anyone on these stairs,” Sam laughs. “Yeah! I brought the new runner!” 

“Not a runner,” she reminds him. “I’m not staying.”

“Right,” he replies uneasily. “See...that’s why I brought you to Janine. She’ll explain.”

At the top of the stairs, Sam opens a door into a makeshift sound lab. Screens of all kinds—cracked flatscreens and desktop monitors and ancient Macbooks and even a vintage TV set—cover the walls. On the far side of the room, a woman sits behind a soundboard, watching the grainy image of a runner on one of the screens. 

“Janine!” Sam says in shock. “Why are you operating? You’re not supposed to operate!”

“You were busy elsewhere,” she says briskly, “and I was here. Could you please do your actual job now, so I can do mine?”

They exchange headsets and Sam sits next to Janine, types something quickly, and adjusts the microphone. “Hey, Runner Six! This is Sam, I’m filling in for Janine. Keep heading west, you’re doing great. Nearest zom a full kilometer away, maybe a little farther.”

Janine shifts her attention away from Sam and the screen. “Well. Hello.” She extends her hand. “I’m Janine, and I understand that your name is Addison Walker.”

She nods and shakes Janine’s hand.

“Welcome to Abel Township, Miss Walker.”

“People keep saying that I’m supposed to stay and be a runner,” she blurts out, “but I’m not staying. Just until they send a transport back for me.”

Janine looks taken aback, and she feels her face flush a little.

_ Stupid, that’s not how you talk to people. _

“I mean…” she falters.

“It’s all right,” Janine says, somewhat coldly. “I understand your situation, which is why I specifically asked  _ certain people, _ ” here she shot a quick glare at Sam, “not to talk to you about it until I had a chance to explain. I established radio contact with Mullins while you were with Dr. Myers in the hospital. They don’t have a transport to spare, and they won’t for months at least. So for now, you’re here with us. And Abel residents work to earn their keep.”

She’s silent. What can she say?  _ I’m on a mission of my own that will be over in a few days. At some point, you’re going to find out the truth about me, and you won’t want me here then. _

“Now,” Janine says, businesslike as ever, “ordinarily we place newcomers based on a quick battery of tests, but we’ve seen how you run. Were you a runner before?”

“No,” she replies, truthfully for once. “I stayed in shape, lifted weights, but...no running, no.”

“Well, you’re a natural. Most untrained runners wouldn’t have survived that little romp through the forest, and you performed admirably. Still, I’m assigning you to training with Dr. Myers before we send you out on any more real missions. You need a number designation, and from what I’ve heard, Sam already christened you during your first run.”

Again, she glances at Sam, but with a much softer expression.

“The number five has been vacant for over a month, so...welcome to the team, Runner Five.”

_______________________________________

The training schedule is set for eight weeks. Every day, she’s out on the track, or weaving her way in a circle around the township, or occasionally (and carefully) venturing through the gates and into the surrounding forest. Dr. Myers is a patient coach, and on the days when Sam joins her in the comms shack, he’s an enthusiastic companion—apart from one training session during the second week when he has a strange sort of breakdown over the old Runner Five. When he comes back, he’s regained his cheerful composure, but every now and then, when he calls her Runner Five over the comms, she gets the feeling he’s really talking to someone else.

Slowly, she learns the names of everyone at Abel, but she carefully avoids getting too close with anyone. It’s an old trick, and one she used at Mullins a lot. You talk to someone just long enough to memorize their name, their appearance, and one important fact about them. For instance, Evan Deaubl, Runner Seven, is a tall, dark-haired man of about 35, and he still has a dog named Bonnie who escaped with him on Z-Day. Simon Lauchlan, Runner Three, is a well-built 26-year-old with sandy blond hair who used to run a gym before the apocalypse and apparently spends 75% of his time talking about how much he misses protein powder. Jody Marsh, otherwise known as Runner Four, is 5’2” with curly red hair and freckles, and she spends lots of time knitting in the rec room. That sort of thing.

She knows about them, but she doesn’t know  _ them,  _ and that’s how she wants it to stay.

On her last day of training, she’s scheduled to run a benchmark 5K. Instead, she finds herself on her first solo run, taking a package to Bert Airfield. From what she can gather, it’s supposed to go to Frances, the old Runner Five’s sister. The mission doesn’t have any tactical purposes. It’s just for Sam.

Janine tells her so over the comms, as she starts to weave her way back.

“I’m aware that I might seem...frosty, at times, but this exterior does conceal the fact that I have genuine feelings of concern for various members of the base who, at certain times, may find themselves in emotional or psychological difficulties, and I…”

She pauses, then continues.

“Runner Five, I’m grateful for what you’ve done for Sam. He needed someone to rely on.”

She nearly chokes.  _ Me?  _ I’m  _ the someone Sam needs to rely on? He doesn’t know me! _

But she just listens to the rest of Janine’s little speech, mutters, “It’s the least I can do,” and turns down the volume on her headset. Sam might come back and tell her how grateful he is, and she doesn’t want to hear that.

_______________________________________

Exactly one day later, she gets sent out on her first real mission, a lure and distract run. She gets paired up with the only runner she doesn’t know one important fact about yet.

“Hey there!” she says, dark eyes flashing. “I’m Runner Eight, Sara Smith. How are you doing? Ready to go out there and misdirect some zombies?”

She stands like she rules the world. Even her walking is purposeful, efficient. When she runs, it’s like she could go forever. She’s a little intimidating, to be honest.

At one point, she switches off her headset to shut out Sam’s voice. Five gets the feeling that she really just wants to talk uninterrupted. Eight also has an uncanny ability to talk while she runs without sounding out of breath at all. At least that makes the conversation mostly one-sided.

“So you just came down in that chopper a couple of days ago, huh? Must have been pretty scary. Seems like you were the only one who survived. At least, we haven’t seen any other survivors.”

Out of nowhere, a zombie lurches out of the bushes, groaning.

“Duck down there just a second, honey,” Eight says matter-of-factly, and with a single gunshot, the zombie is back in the bushes.

“There we go! We don’t usually have guns. There’s not enough to go round. But they like to try and help us out on a decoy mission like this.” Before Five can reply, she continues, her voice getting colder as she goes. “Amazing how you turned up here. Just dropped out of the sky after someone fired a rocket launcher at your helicopter. That’s really strange, isn’t it? I mean, you were just bringing in supplies. We’ve been in touch with the military base a hundred miles north, and they do some drops of meds and wet weather gear, that sort of thing. So who would do a thing like that?”

Eight changes course to run west, and Five follows.

“And you know what I keep thinking about?” Eight adds suddenly. “How do we even know it was  _ you  _ on that chopper at all? We haven’t got any way to transmit pictures anymore, so we didn’t know what you’d look like. Sure, you turn up in the right uniform, but that could have been stripped from a body. You might not have been in that chopper at all. It might have been you who shot it down!”

Casually, almost carelessly, Eight cocks her gun.

“Duck down your head there for a minute,” she says, and Five does.  _ Bang!  _ “Wouldn’t want to hit you by mistake.”

Five goes cold. Eight’s theory is wrong—she was in the chopper, and she didn’t shoot it down—but her instinct is much too right.

_ I knew it. Someone’s going to find out.  _

_______________________________________

“One Night Ultimate Werewolf?” Simon whines.

“Jody especially requested it!” Sam points out, setting the game on the table and pulling off the lid.

“Jody requested it,” Jody adds, “over  _ three weeks  _ ago, and somehow we always end up playing whatever game Simon wants to play!”

“Not quite true.” Maxine breaks in from the doorway to the kitchen, where she’s leaning against the frame and absentmindedly chewing on a piece of licorice. “Last week we played Catan, and that wasn’t for Simon. It was for Evan.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam says. Without warning, a game board goes flying across the room. He ducks to avoid it. “ _ Simon! _ ”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to throw things.”

“He  _ did  _ mean to throw things!” Jody shrieks.

“Please calm down,” Evan says slowly in his long-suffering,  _ I am the father of twelve children _ voice.

“Evan, just because you’ve been here longer than any other runner and you’re like the unofficial  _ head of runners  _ or whatever doesn’t mean you get to talk down to us like we’re—”

“Oh my God, guys, we’re here to play a game. Come sit down.” Sam scans the rec room, counting. “Okay, we’ve got Six, Three— _ stop messing up the game cabinet, Simon— _ Seven, Four, Maxie, Janine never comes unless it’s Pandemic or Risk, Eight didn’t want to play Werewolf, oh hi, Chris, I didn’t see you come in—anyone know where Jack and Eugene are?”

“Their radio show is airing tonight,” Jody offers. “Apparently their first couple tests have worked pretty well.”

“All right, all right. Hey—where’s Five?”

“She never comes,” Jody says, lying backwards on the couch and throwing a rubber ball at the ceiling.

“Speak of the devil,” Simon calls out from the back of the room, “look out the window.”

Sam turns, and through the window, he sees Five heading back in the direction of the barracks. Her hair is still damp from her post-run shower, and she has those little crease lines in her forehead that make it look like she’s thinking really hard about something. 

“I’ll get her,” Sam says, and promptly tears off.

“Five!” Sam skids to a stop in front of her. She blinks, like she’s being jolted back into reality. “Sam. Hi. What?”

He sticks his hands in his pockets. “It’s game night. You know, like every Thursday. The game night we keep inviting you to?”

“Oh. Right…” she says uneasily. “I don’t think I can—”

“Just one game!” He grabs her arm, too excited to notice her shudder at his touch. “It’s One Night Ultimate Werewolf, it’ll be short! Then you can leave if you want.”

He practically drags her through the farmhouse doors, through the kitchen, and into the rec room. 

“All hail my quick reflexes and ingenuity, for I have procured…” Sam gestures to Five in a grand, sweeping motion. “...Runner Five.”

The room breaks into applause. Five stares down at the floor with a tiny, somewhat forced smile.

“Okay, let’s play. Everyone sit down.”

Everyone crowds around the table, and Sam deals out the cards. Obviously they don’t have the app, so Sam reads the narration out loud in his best dramatic announcer voice (which happens to be pretty good), while everyone does their actions. When he’s done reading, he sets a timer. Five minutes to find the werewolf.

“Okay,” Simon says immediately. “So I’m the werewolf.”

Everyone groans.

“Soooo…” Maxie says, sliding the Tanner chip toward Simon, “Guess we know who at least one person is…”

“Does anyone have any important information?” Sam asks.

“I can start,” Jody pipes up. “I was the Drunk, so obviously I have no idea what I am now. Some card from the center.”

“I can confirm that,” Sam says. “I was the Seer, and I saw that Jody was the Drunk.”

“Guilty as charged!” Jody proclaims.

“Anybody else?”

“I was the Robber,” Evan says carefully, “and I switched with Maxine.”

“Maxine, what were you?”

“A Villager...not very useful, I’m afraid.”

“Guys!” Simon interrupts. “You’re forgetting that  _ I’m the werewolf. _ ”

“Yeah, that’s nice, Simon. Evan?”

“Yes, Maxine’s correct, she was a Villager.”

The appropriate chips are handed out, and they look over what’s left.

“Both werewolves, Troublemaker, Minion, Hunter...hmm. Any claims on those roles?” Sam suggests. “Who was the Hunter or Troublemaker?”

“I’m the Hunter,” Chris says.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

This quiet comment comes from Five, who up till now has been characteristically silent. Everyone looks over at her. She’s staring hard at the chips in the center. 

“I’m the Troublemaker,” she says, “and I switched Sam and Chris’s cards.”

“So I’m the Hunter now?” Sam asks. Five nods. Simon slides the Hunter chip over to Sam.

“Which makes me the Seer now,” Chris says, and reaches for Sam’s Seer chip. There are three minutes remaining.

“Wait,” Five interrupts. She’s still staring at the middle, crease lines etched into her forehead. She’s thinking hard. “I don’t think Sam  _ was  _ the Seer.”

“ _ What? _ ” Sam sputters. “Of course I was!”

“No!” Five says, a little louder this time. There’s a light in her eyes that wasn’t there before. She actually looks... _ excited.  _ “You said you saw Jody’s Drunk card, right?”

“Right! And she was the Drunk, so that confirms I’m telling the truth.”

“No, no, it doesn’t!” Five smiles now, a real happy grin, and all the lines disappear. Despite the fact that he’s currently being accused of being the werewolf, Sam can’t help but feel his spirits lift at the sight of it. “Because you only confirmed that Jody was the Drunk  _ after  _ she said she was. You were just pretending to confirm what you already knew.”

“Not true!” Sam insists, but he sounds guilty. Maxie laughs.

“Good work, Five!” she says. 

“But it isn’t true,” Simon pipes up, sounding a bit defeated, “because  _ I’m  _ the werewolf.”

“Thank you for your contribution, Simon.”

“Wait,” Chris says slowly. “So that would make me…”

“The werewolf,” Five says triumphantly, and slides the chip over to Chris. She’s still beaming. One minute remaining.

“But I  _ wasn’t the werewolf! _ ” Sam protests.

“It’s kind of obvious, Sam,” Jody says. “I think Five’s right.”

“What about the other werewolf?” Evan asks.

“Unless we’re believing that Simon is somehow playing 3D chess, there’s probably no other werewolf,” Maxie says. “The other one is probably in the center.”

Five gasps, a sparkle in her eyes. She jumps up on top of her chair so that she’s standing over everyone. “ _ There’s only one werewolf! _ ”

“Yeah…?”

“That’s how Sam knew what to claim!” she declares, pointing down at Sam. “He was the only werewolf, so he saw the Seer card and knew it would be safe to claim that role.”

Thirty seconds.

“So we vote for Chris,” Jody says matter-of-factly.

Chris looks dejected. “As much as I hate to lose the game...I don’t see another explanation.”

Ten seconds.

“But guys!” Sam says. “There’s just  _ one problem,  _ which is that I was  _ definitely the Seer. _ ”

“Nice try, Sam,” Maxie says. “Are we ready to vote?”

The timer goes off, and everyone at the table except for Sam points at Chris. Thoroughly confused, Sam doesn’t point anywhere at all.

“I’m lynched,” Chris says, and reaches down to flip over his card, fully expecting to see the werewolf card staring up at him.

It’s the Seer.

“ _ What? _ ”

They all flip over their cards. Chris has the Seer card, Evan has Villager, Maxie has Robber, Jody has Minion, Simon has Tanner (literally no surprise at all), Sam has Hunter.

And Five is the werewolf.

The room explodes into cheering.

“Wow!” Maxie says. “That was incredible!”

“You saw Troublemaker, right?” Evan asks. “Claiming that swap was brilliant!”

But all the excitement in Five’s face is gone. She’s back to her stoic stare, forehead furrowed as if she’s thinking, worried about something. 

“I should go,” she says. “Thanks for inviting me.”

And with that, she’s gone. 

_______________________________________

As everyone leaves at the end of the night, Sam grabs Maxie’s arm. “Hey, um...do you think Five had a good time?”

“She seemed like it during the game,” Maxie says slowly. “But it was a little weird how she shut down at the end.”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes it takes a while for people to warm up, Sam, you know that.”

“Yeah.” He’s silent for a second, drawing circles on the floor with the toe of his shoe. “I just...she was the werewolf the whole time.”

“ _ That’s  _ what you’re upset about? It’s just a game, Sam!”

“No, I know, it’s just…” He sighs. “I don’t care about losing the game. It’s fun when stuff like that happened. She just seemed so  _ happy  _ when she was figuring it out. But…”

“She wasn’t figuring it out,” Maxie finishes.

“Right. She was doing it so we’d believe her.”

“I don’t know about that,” Maxie says. But she’s quiet for a moment.

Sam stares up at the stars, then back down to Maxie.

“Have a good night, Doc.”

“You too, Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's been a week since Chapter 1! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I'm very excited for what's coming up next. Thank you for reading!!


	3. Clever Words and Phrases Only Stain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Five and Seven outrun some zoms, Jody convinces Five to race Simon, and Sam almost talks about his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers S1M3. I promise we'll start moving faster soon!

They’re persistent, and every time, she almost gives in. But she keeps her head. She always keeps her head.

The first time, she’s on her first run with Runner Seven. He talks to her the whole time, keeping an entirely professional tone, and doesn’t seem to mind her silence. They run to the nearest hill to get the lay of the land, and for the first time at Abel, she doesn’t have any trouble keeping up. She’s almost proud of herself, but she remembers.  _ As soon as I find it, I’m gone.  _ She’s not a runner. She won’t be a runner.

But as they stand on the hill and Evan points out the different settlements, from New Canton to Skoobs, it’s surprisingly hard not to  _ feel  _ like a runner. As a small horde approaches from the east, and Evan cheerfully points them out, it’s hard not to feel a tiny bud of excitement at the prospect of outrunning those guys all the way back home. (She means Abel. All the way back to Abel.)

And when Evan turns to her and says, “You’ve done well today, Five,” with a small grin on his face, and breaks his businesslike demeanor for just a moment as he nudges her playfully, an unbidden thought enters her head.

_ I don’t have to leave.  _

But she waves it away, composes herself, and pushes away the smile that threatens to spread across her face. She does have to leave, as soon as the mission is over, and nothing about that is changing. 

The second time, she’s passing by the track, and overhears Simon and Jody talking very loudly.

“You’ve got to be joking!” Simon says. “There’s  _ no way _ !”

“I’m just saying,” Jody replies, “I saw her speed trials, and you didn’t…”

“Everyone knows!” Simon nearly shouts. “Everyone knows I’m the fastest runner at Abel!” 

“ _ Wait! There she is! _ ”

Before she knows what’s happening, Five is being dragged back to the track by tiny Jody (who is surprisingly strong for her size).

“Hi Five! I was just telling Simon,” she says brightly, “that you’re faster than he is.”

Jody is nearly bouncing with excitement at the prospect of proving Simon wrong. A look of pure determination has lighted on Simon’s face. He’s ready to defend his title. 

“I don’t really…” she starts to say, but Jody interrupts.

“Race him!” Her eyes are practically glowing. “You’ll win!”

Five has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at Simon’s expression. He has the face of a threatened bulldog, his chest is puffed out, and he appears to be flexing involuntarily. 

She should ignore them and walk away. Instead, she takes a few steps to the starting line and waves Simon over. Simon can’t resist the challenge (of course), and he takes his place on the line.

“Ready...set... _ go! _ ” Jody shouts, and they take off.

Five strides along the track, and the weightless feeling that she first experienced after the chopper went down comes back. The breeze picks up and rushes with her, pushing her along to the finish line. She doesn’t know where Simon is, and she doesn’t care. This time, she can’t push the thought away: 

She loves this.

Suddenly Jody is yelling from somewhere far away.

“Five! Five, stop, stop!”

She slows, coming back to the real world, and realizes she’s halfway through the second lap of a 400-meter race.

“You beat him!” Jody chokes out through her laughter. Simon’s standing next to her, breathing hard and staring at the ground. “By like...a second!”

Five jogs back to the starting line, bracing herself to face Simon’s wrath. When she gets there, Simon looks up. His face is expressionless.

Everything happens in a fraction of a second. Simon moves his right arm—just the tiniest bit—and instinctively, Five flinches. She lowers her head, throws her hands up to protect her face, takes a half-step back.

There’s a long moment of stunned silence. Five’s face grows hot. Slowly, she lowers her hands from her face.

_ That hasn’t happened in years. _

“Sorry,” she starts to say, but before she can finish, Simon picks her up and spins her around. 

“ _ What was that? _ ” He sets her back down, laughing. “What god descended and made  _ you  _ the Usain Bolt of the apocalypse?”

“How did you get so fast?” Jody adds, and they’re talking over one another, and it’s like they didn’t even see it. But their sentences are just a little too fast, and they glance at one another just a little too often, and she knows that they noticed.

Five has the inexplicable urge to tell them the truth. To laugh with them. To cry. (No, not to cry. That’s something she’ll never do again.) To do something, anything, that would accept the invitation they’re offering her. To be part of this family.

Instead she nods, mutters something like a goodbye, and walks away. She doesn’t look back. For some reason, she doesn’t want to see their looks of confusion.

The third time, it’s 2AM and Abel is quiet. She sneaks quietly out of the runners’ barracks, creeping her way down the dim paths. Carefully, she slips toward the gates, skirting the far end of the farmhouse, until she reaches the comms shack.

Normally the door would be locked at night. Fortunately, Five already took care of that earlier. Sam Yao is many things, but “not easily distracted” is not one of those things.

“Hi, Sam?” she said. The hand holding the key dropped, his face brightened, he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“Yeah!” he said, turning to face her, the lock forgotten. “Five! Hello! What’s up?”

“Game night is every Thursday night, right? So...tonight?” she asked. He nodded, a huge grin spreading across his face. They started walking together away from the shack.

“Yes! Yes, yes! Are you going to come?”

A twinge of guilt twisted her stomach. No, of course she wasn’t going to come.

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun last time, and I was just wondering what time it starts?”

“We usually start around seven! Wow, Five, after last time, I thought you’d never—I just mean that—well, I’m glad you’re coming.”

She smiled, trying very hard to look like she meant it.

“I’ll see you then.”

They parted ways, Sam slipping the unused key into his pocket.

Five opens the door slowly. She didn’t go to game night. Sam was probably disappointed. Poor kid, he just wants everyone to be together. He doesn’t understand that there will never be a  _ together  _ for her. He doesn’t realize that she doesn’t need Abel. She doesn’t even need Mullins. She just needs one thing, and hopefully it’s in this comms shack.

She closes the door behind her and starts inspecting the single-room ground floor, methodically going through boxes, checking cracks in the wall for hidden storage spaces, feeling the floorboards for trap doors. After fifteen minutes, half an hour, an hour, she starts getting the sinking feeling that it’s not here.

After opening what feels like the millionth box and not finding anything, she lets out a frustrated groan and drops the box. It makes a much louder  _ thunk  _ than she intended. She freezes. Total silence for a moment. She breathes a sigh of relief.

“Five?”

It’s Sam.

She straightens up and turns to see him on the staircase, a little disheveled, still wearing the same jeans and orange hoodie.

“Hey,” she says. “Why are you awake?”

“I fell asleep on the couch upstairs.” He doesn’t seem particularly perturbed at finding her here, and she relaxes a little. He plops down on one of the stairs. “Well, actually, that’s not quite true. First I couldn’t sleep, then I came here, then I fell asleep on the couch upstairs.”

He stares at the floor.

“That’s not true either. I could sleep...I just didn’t like it.”

“That makes sense.” Five sits down on a box. “I couldn’t sleep either, and I thought…”

“No, I get it,” Sam interrupts. Five looks up in surprise. “You know, sometime during their first few weeks here, I’ve found almost every runner here in the shack at some ungodly hour?” 

“Really?” Five asks in genuine surprise.

“Yeah. I’m not sure why, but I think it’s because the shack is...safe? I don’t know, you runners spend all your time outside the gates, getting chased by zombies, being in constant danger. And the whole time, there’s this voice in your ear, and you know that voice...that voice isn’t in danger at all. He’s totally safe.”

His voice cracks a little on the word “safe.”

“So I think the shack feels the same way to you guys. Safe, I mean. I don’t know. I’m probably rambling.”

He yawns, and involuntarily, Five does the same.

“Listen, Five...are you doing okay?”

She blinks. “What? Why?”

“You weren’t at game night, and you were so excited about it earlier, so I thought...something might have happened.”

This time she feels more than a twinge of guilt. This is a genuine firestorm. Sam doesn’t realize she lied. Even after finding her alone in the comms shack at 3AM, he doesn’t suspect that she distracted him to keep the door unlocked.

“No,” she says, breathing carefully to keep her voice from shaking. “No, I’m fine. I was just tired.”

“Yeah.” He looks up at her. “Yeah. Tired.”

There’s a strange silence, like he’s waiting for her to talk. Well, she won’t. Sam’s the talker, let him talk.

Eventually, he does.

“Listen,” he says quickly, “I couldn’t sleep because I kept having dreams.”

_ Welcome to the club. _

“Not nightmares. Not like everyone else, I mean. Everyone else has dreams about killing zombies, getting chased in the dark...that sort of thing. I don’t have zombie nightmares. My dreams…”

He trails off. After several seconds, Five realizes that for the first time ever, Sam isn’t going to keep talking. And for the first time ever, she wants to keep listening.

That isn’t good.

“It’s late,” she says. “I should go.”

“Okay.” He smiles, the faintest version of his usual wide grin. It barely reaches his eyes. “Okay. Good night.”

She heads out the door, down the paths, back to the barracks, and into her tiny room before she realizes that she didn’t even respond to Sam’s  _ good night. _

_ You have to go,  _ she repeats to herself.  _ You have to go. You can’t do this. You can’t make friends. You can’t be one of them. _

She climbs onto her bed and curls up into a ball, leaning against the wall, telling herself over and over again. 

_ Forget the mission. They’ll hate you once they know, they’ll send you away. _

Something is stinging behind her eyes. She blinks once, twice, and it goes away, but there’s still a heaviness in her chest, in her throat.

_ Forget it. Stop trying to find it.  _

She’s always done this alone. This time isn’t any different. Finding it won’t do her any good once they discover who she really is. And they will. They always do.

_ It’s time to leave. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you guys think.


End file.
